Again
by Dejavued
Summary: Jo ran away from her foster family because she had feelings for her foster brother. She just couldn't take being called his sister. She never thought she would see him again. Until fate brings them back together five years later. Her feelings return instantly. Can they fall in love? Can he love her the same or as a friend? Or worse - A sister?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** The characters in my stories are completely made up characters and have temporally been given borrowed names for the sole purpose of satisfying the qualifications for posting on this fanfiction site. These stories are fiction and should be perceived as such. They in no way reflect the lives, beliefs or views of any persons living or dead and any similarities are coincidental. I am not affiliated with any company or professional wrestler in any way. No disrespect or copyright infringement intended. And if any of my favs happen upon my stories, I hope your not offended because this is not

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New Story. I'll update as much as life allows. I hope you'll enjoy it and I look forward to your reviews. :D

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Chapter 1

With one final ka-thunk, the engine in my aging car gave out, barely allowing time to steer it onto the side of the road.

"Ugh." I was disgusted.

I was stranded. Midway through my journey. On a day when there wasn't a moment to spare.

Though I knew it wasn't going to do any good, I tried turning the ignition once, twice – three times. Not so much as a spark. _Damn it!_

Automobiles were the worst machines ever made. Always breaking down. Never trustworthy. Syphoning every spare dime. Taking the bus was more economical, but that didn't travel to where I needed to go.

Why the hell did they bring those things to Jenithiyah? It wouldn't have hurt my feelings if cars had remained as lost as the outside world. We had the perfect paradise and people were intent on making life as close to their homeland as possible. At least they maintained some sense of sanity with their environmental regulations. Jenithiyah wouldn't fall victim to the pollutions – but the restrictions sure made crappy cars.

Right then, I longed for the gasoline run motors of America – then reminded myself that compared to where I'd a few years before – a broken-down car on the side of the road was a lot better than the cold, windy doorway of an abandoned building, left-over meals from trash cans, and hiding from the police.

Running away was probably not the smartest decision of my youth. I was an adult where I came from and it felt like a punishment when the officials placed me in foster care. It wasn't my fault that I'd survived a horrific cruise line disaster and floated into an unescapable place. I'd spent too much time feeling bitter and sorry for myself when I should have taken advantage.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" I stared out the window at the man filling my vision. "This isn't the best place to park."

I rolled down the window. "Well, I'm not parked here by choice." I smarted off before giving the good Samaritan a proper glance.

"Jo?"

I focused on the face that belonged to a familiar voice. Shock nearly knocked me off my feet. He was older, more man than boy now, but I'd know Roman anywhere. I'd fallen in love with him the moment we were introduced. Being labeled as his sister was what pushed me over the edge. What I'd felt – that one kiss – had been beautiful and one word made it ugly and dirty. Despite how nice the foster family had been to me, I couldn't remain.

"Jo Stanton? Girl, where have you been?"

His voice. I'd thought I'd never hear that deep rumble again. The last time I'd seen him, he'd been hip deep in the ocean with a surfboard under his arm.

"Roman," I said, keeping my voice remarkably calm and flat. He smiled and it took all my effort not reveal that those old feelings rushed over me like those waves on that last day. "It's been a long time."

"Yeah, about five years – when you took off – my parents still talk about you – if you're okay – alive – dead – in case you were wondering." He leaned his forearm on the car. "Pop the hood."

Roman disappeared to examine my engine. I found the strength to step outside the car, being careful not to nervously stumble. I watched as he checked and fiddled with wires and caps, trying not to think too much about what my ex foster brother might think of me.

"Water in the oil." He diagnosed.

"Duh, I put water in the tank this morning."

He chuckled. "Yes, but it doesn't belong in the heads, Shortcake."

I didn't know what to think of him using his nickname for me.

"I know a guy with a tow truck." He pulled out his phone. "Shouldn't take long …"

"No, that's alright." My bank account couldn't take the hit. "At this point, I'm ready to give it to whoever dares take on the responsibility."

"I didn't say I was going to charge you."

"You own the tow service?"

"Guilty. I don't charge family and you are still family." He closed the hood after typing his message. He expression turned solemn. "Why did you leave, Jo?"

"Because. You kept throwing around words like family."

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Please Review.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** The characters in my stories are completely made up characters and have temporally been given borrowed names for the sole purpose of satisfying the qualifications for posting on this fanfiction site. These stories are fiction and should be perceived as such. They in no way reflect the lives, beliefs or views of any persons living or dead and any similarities are coincidental. I am not affiliated with any company or professional wrestler in any way. No disrespect or copyright infringement intended. And if any of my favs happen upon my stories, I hope your not offended because this is not

* * *

New Story. I'll update as much as life allows. I hope you'll enjoy it and I look forward to your reviews. :D

* * *

Chapter 2

Jo slipped into the passenger seat of my truck and twitched her nose.

"Does it still smell?" I don't know why I was self-conscious about my ride. Of myself in her presence. We lived under the same roof once.

"It smells like rubber and coffee." She settled back and snapped the seatbelt in place. "I've obviously stepped into male domain."

"Well, I am single – if that's what you where hinting."

"I wasn't."

"Fill this out and I'll call you as soon as we know what the issue is."

She started filling out the information as I pulled onto the road.

"How have you been?"

"Fine."

I laughed a little. "I remember you being – extremely talkative."

"I grew up."

"So, can I drop you somewhere?" It wasn't the first time Jo made me nervous, but it was the first time a few minutes of her chatter didn't calm me.

"Where I'm going is in the other direction, Roman." She glanced at her watch. "At this point, calling in is better than being late."

"I'd rather have a late employee than an absent."  
"My job has two different point systems and my tardy slip is full."

"Well, then we can spend the day together and catch up."

"I don't think so."

The old Jo would have accepted before I'd finished the sentence. This Jo was forged in stone. Even the way she sat was rigid. I guess she was angry at me. I'd always suspected I was the reason she'd run away. At least now I knew I was right.

Damn. How could I have been so stupid. I should have hidden my feelings. Jo wasn't the first girl who had come into our home. We'd had a couple before. None had ever stayed long. They were usually reunited with their families in a couple months. But Jo didn't have a family. They said she'd been found on the shore of Bermuda Falls. She was a castaway from another world.

Jo was different than any of girl I'd ever met before. She didn't giggle at everything I said and she knew what the real world, beyond childhood. I was approaching twenty-five. The age that legally made me an adult and honestly I felt I was grown at a much younger age. I thought she was perfect for me. We were on the same page. We could talk about the same things. But she was my sister. Or would be. Legally. Very soon. Until she was gone. I never forgave myself for running her off.

"You can drop me off here."

"This is a parking lot, Jo." I scrunched my eyes in confusion. "To an abandoned store."

"I live here."

"Are you scared I'm going to drag you back to my parent's home?"

"I'm an adult again, Roman. I know I can't be forced into foster care. Unless I broke some law I don't know about. Is there a warrant for my arrest because I ran away from the government's ruling."

"Of course not. But you can tell me where you really live."

"This is it. Come inside and I'll prove it."

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	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: This story is fiction. All the characters are fictional with borrowed names to comply with the fan fiction genre. They should not be confused with any person living or dead. I am not now nor have I ever been affiliated with any professional wrestler or wrestling company. No disrespect intended.

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Sorry it's been so long to update this one. I've been writing on other sites lately. You can find more of my writing on Wattpad. My username is Jennie_Lyne_Hiott

I am currently working on a prequel to Sweet Son of a Mobster that started here on Fanfic and will soon be rewriting Playing House, Rain of Sorrow, and The Prison Camp there. I hope you check it out and enjoy my regular writing as much as my fanfics. :D

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Chapter 1

I don't know what possessed me invite Roman inside. I had nothing to prove to his family. But I was proud, determined to show them that I did just fine on my own, without them – and I would never say that I regretted leaving – only because it would have been nice to have a family to share special occasions with.

I opened the door to the shop, feeling self-conscious. The place was dilapidated and I knew Roman's eyes were scanning even though he was behind my line of vision. I knew he was thinking the worse about me, even with my conscious telling me I was paranoid. I gazed over my shoulder.

"I live upstairs."

"Ah."

He followed me. Silently. That silence killed me. Roman lived by the 'if you can't say nothing nice – say nothing at all' rule and time probably didn't fade his way.

"Here it is," I shoved a door that dragged and scratched the floor because the top hinge barely hung on the frame.

The apartment wasn't much, but it was mine. Taped down cardboard hid holes in the faded, scratched hardwood floors. The sofa was ratty and worn. My end tables were two old milk crates and the coffee table was an old refrigerator box. The living room and kitchen shared the same space and only a frame of what used to be a wall separated it from my bedroom where I had a neatly made mattress sitting on the floor.

"You can't live here, Jo," Roman whispered.

"It may not look like much, but it's clean." I felt like I had to defend myself.

"Are you homeless? You are aren't you? You found this abandoned old relic and you – "

"I am not …"

"The lights don't even work, Jo!" He flicked the light switch on the wall for effect, but I know he'd seen the half burned candles sitting everywhere.

"The wiring is screwed up, that's all." I sat my purse on the kitchen counter and pulled a soda out of a cooler. I threw it to him then took one for myself. "It's only temporary."

"It was – but I'm not leaving you here."

I laughed. "Same old Roman. Always the hero. Well, I don't need saving."

"But I need you!" he shouted. Then his eyes grew big. He stared, making it obvious that he hadn't meant to say those words out loud.

"I think you should go."

"I think you should pack."

"Look. I was homeless. Okay? I did find this place and use it for shelter. But that was a long time ago. The owner found me here and we made a deal. I'm buying this place now and some day …"

"I know how big your dreams are. But you don't have to suffer while you try to make whatever it is you want to make out of this – shit."

"You never could see beyond what was sitting in front of your face."

"I see reality. I see your reality. Pack."

"Why, Roman?"

"Because I have a spare room and I could use a roommate."

"That's sweet. But I can't afford to pay rent at another place and pay the mortgage here."

"I didn't want you to."

"Oh, I see."

"See what?"

"What makes you think I still think the same things about you?"

"I still think the same things about you – I didn't mean to run you off, Jo." He moved too close. "When we first met you said I was a spoiled brat. That I was too used to getting my way. Well, I am still used to getting my way and I am taking you home with me. One way or another. You can pack your shit or I can take you how you are. Your choice."

"Ugh!" He brought out the fire in me. That man made me so mad so easily and I couldn't figure why the hell I still felt a tingling in my heart every time he was around.

"Get out!" I shoved him towards the door. "Leave!"

But it was like trying to move a brick wall. He growled. Then he lifted me and slung me over his shoulder like I was a big bag of pet food. He snatched my purse from the counter and carried me out of the old store despite my flailing arms and kicking legs.

I thought I'd be able to run once he put me in his vehicle. I assumed he'd put me in the passenger's seat and I would make my mood as he rounded to get to the driver's side. But no! He put me in driver's seat and slid to the middle.

I fought him with every ounce of strength I had. He held me down. He pushed me into a laying position, using his body to hold me down while he reached into the glove compartment. It was kidnapping! He was actually kidnapping me!

"That's better." He grinned after slapping handcuffs around one of my wrists and his. Then he started his truck. "You might want to calm down for a bit. Might hurt us both if you fight while I'm driving!"

"You jerk!" I slapped him. As hard I could with my free hand. He thought that was funny too.

"Same old hell cat." He laughed. "I think we're gonna have a lot of fun," He grew serious. "You and me – we should have been a lot more."

"What you're doing is a crime Roman."

"No." he turned onto the highway. "I'm just making things right."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: This story is fiction. All the characters are my own, completely fictional with borrowed names to comply with the fan fiction genre. They should not be confused with any person living or dead. I am not now nor have I ever been affiliated with any professional wrestler or wrestling company. No disrespect intended.

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Here's a long awaited update. I hope you enjoy it.

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Chapter 4

In normal society, what I was doing would be considered a crime, but I wasn't part of it. I was Chymoan. My people were the first people to live in Jenithiyah. Our ancestors could be traced all the way back to Atlantis and we were the ones left behind when it sunk. The answers to many mysteries could be found in the story or our origin. But that was something many people outside our community refused to believe. Most people didn't believe much beyond their field of vision and some won't believe even when you show them the proof. We had been reduced to little more than a myth. We were ridiculed and laughed at for living as we did.

We were like the Amish. But only in the way that the laws of the outsiders could not touch us. We had our own set of laws and traditions. Our own way of taking care of our own. Like our marriage traditions. There was a curse on our people. Since the sinking of Atlantis, no daughters had been born. To keep our tribe going, we had to choose a wife from the outsiders and they had to convert to our society fully. We were forced to marry and we had a few options to choose from. Some families adopted daughters. Choosing females that had the dark hair, dark eyes and skin like ours. They raised them in our world and when they grew up their husbands were already chosen. Parents would make arrangements sometimes before they were old enough to know what love was. Some found a woman from the outside and ripped her from her world and others bought their wives. From the lowest scum of the outside world – people who actually sold their offspring. Caring only for money and caring nothing for the kind of life their child would have.

I never thought I would be the type to kidnap my wife, but time was running out. I would turn 30 in a month and I didn't want the elders to choose a wife for me. I didn't want them to go out and find the very first available woman. Rather they snatched her or bought her from the outside – they would take the very first one. I really didn't want to be responsible for destroying someone's life. I didn't want my wife to hate me. I had hoped to meet someone who would fall for me and gladly convert to my way of life.

We lived on the dividing line. So my family dealt with the outsiders often. Our businesses made money from both worlds and it helped. I fixed the cars of both the tribe and the outsiders. I made a decent living. I was shocked to find Jo living so close to our world. I always imagined she would have gone as far away from it as she could. And as far from me as she could.

Well – since she was right there … it must be fate. She was going to be my wife – rather she wanted to be or not. That was our ways. Our laws. Old fashioned and barbaric but set in stone. There was no way out of our world. No way but death. You could run all you wanted. But eventually our warriors would find you and bring you back. Desertion was punished by death. There was no other way and no good reason to avoid it.

I was condemning Jo by bringing her back to my world. Binding her to the same laws she would have been a part of if she had been adopted by my parents. Honestly I thought our way of life was far better than the life of those on the outside. Except for the marriage traditions. I didn't care for them much. And I didn't like how woman were stuck. They were expected to stay home. To take care of the home and the children. They weren't allowed to take many jobs. And they were not allowed to have a voice at the tribal meetings.

Many times the issue of catching up with the times had fallen on the ears of the elders. But it always had the same answer. They believed that making the genders equal in the workplace and giving them certain right is what destroyed the outsiders and it would not happen to our people.

In a way they were right. I saw many women on the outside struggling. The single mothers trying to hold a job and take care of their children. Even the married ones had a hard time. They still were expected to handle the home, the children and bring in a paycheck while their men still had one role to worry about and some did much less or nothing at all because the woman could work and pay for everything. I guess I could see both points. And I had mixed feelings about it.

While I drove I thought about my plans for snatching Jo. She lived very close to our borders which put her at great risk of being snatched by our government to serve as someone's wife. Most the men who were forced to marry in this way were the bad sort who never wanted marriage in the first place. They were notably horrible to their wives. Very abusive and I could stand the thought of that happening to Jo. And I even though there was a chance it wouldn't happen I didn't want to take the risk that it would. Not unless that man were me. I hadn't married yet only because my heart belong to someone already. I hadn't been able to find anyone else who could capture it. And now that woman was in my reach. What else could I do?


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